


invite me into your heart

by turtle_abyss



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 17:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtle_abyss/pseuds/turtle_abyss
Summary: Tony Stark and Stephen Strange have a habit of meeting at weddings gone awry.





	invite me into your heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is just some unrepentant fluff and me thinking I'm hilarious. It took me waaaay longer than it should have. Angst is so much easier than fluff. Please let me know if I should add any tags to this.  
> I got the idea from that post going around about sending wedding invites to rich folks.  
> Also, credit to the lovely Vi over the IronStrange discord for beta-ing this for me! It was a mess and she was very thorough.

“Doctor Strange,” comes a low voice from over his shoulder. Stephen turns to see none other than Tony Stark approaching with two glasses of champagne and a trail of hesitant admirers. “Fancy seeing you here,” Tony greets cheerily. “Champagne?” he continues, offering a glass.

And because Stephen isn’t a mannerless heathen, he takes it.

“Mr. Stark,” he greets with a nod. He tips his glass in a brief toast and they both take a sip.

Stephen admires Stark’s ability to keep a straight face and also mentally curses him for handing him the glass in the first place. It was disgusting. Through sheer force of will, he doesn’t grimace, but it’s clear his efforts aren’t nearly as perfect as Stark’s considering the amusement on the other man’s face.

“Not to your taste?” Tony asks breezily, as though he didn't actually care about the answer when Stephen was well aware he’d be openly laughing in other company.

“A bit drier than I was expecting, is all,” Stephen assures him. He’s lying. It’s terrible. He’s not really a fan of champagne in the first place and this is BAD champagne.

“Hm. Too bad. I heard the bride’s mother picked it out _especially_.”

Yes, and the bride had looked _especially_ mortified about it too. He and Stark may very well be the only guests still sipping at this swill.

He raises an eyebrow at the other man, doing his best to clearly communicate that the dig doesn’t bother him and hopefully wipe that smirk off his face.

“So what did you bring them? A first aid kit?” Stark chuckles to himself.

“And what did you bring them? A useless robot? Cell phones? Something else overly complicated and technical?”

“Hey! People like my cell phones!” Stark replies with a pout. Stephen pretends it’s not a stupidly attractive pout that exaggerates his stupidly big brown eyes. Behind him, three guests swoon.

“Not defending your robots, I see.”

“They try their best,” Stark mutters, finally looking like he’d rather talk to someone else.

A young twenty-something in a bridesmaid dress looks a bit too eager when Stark glances in her general direction though and Stephen can see Stark considering his options. But then his eyes light with mischief again and “See ya around, Doc,” is thrown over the shoulder with a casual wave.

Stephen glances down at his drink with a frown. He doesn’t want this.

It’s after he’s found a place to subtly dump the drink out that he spots Stark grinning brightly at the groom, who’s blushing furiously and stuttering like a fool. He’s still holding his glass of champagne but seems to be getting away with not drinking another drop. The bastard. The bride’s mother starts passing around more glasses of champagne. Stephen decides the rest of the event isn’t worth it and leaves the couple a polite note in the guest book thanking them for the invitation.

 

~~~~~~

 

He spots Doctor Handsome by the table of wedding gifts and makes a beeline for him, praying the snarky bastard will have mercy on him just this once.

“Save me save me save me save me,” he whispers frantically on the way, garnering a curious look from Strange as he ducks behind him.

“Anthony!” Justin Hammer calls from across the room.

“Noooooo,” Tony cries lowly, trying to make himself even smaller behind the doctor. He isn’t above getting on the ground and hiding beneath a table, if necessary. Hopefully, Strange doesn’t make it necessary.

“Friend of yours?” Strange drawls, amusement twinkling in his eyes. His stupidly beautiful eyes.

“He has delusions of adequacy,” Tony hisses, offended beyond measure that anyone would even dream of associating him with the likes of _Hammer_.

“Competitor, then?” Stephen asks slyly. Tony scoffs.

“He wishes.”

“Hey! Doctor Something!” Hammer greets obnoxiously. Behind Strange, Tony winces. God, why can’t Hammer just catch a clue and give up like a reasonable person? “You see Tony Stark go this way?”

“Doctor Strange,” Stephen insists, as Tony knew he would. Nothing quite got on the doctor’s nerves like people butchering his name. It’s not like it was hard to remember either, so Tony could understand.

“Sure, sure. But seriously, did you see him? I’ve been trying to catch him all night, but you know Anthony,” and here Justin laughed that grating fake laugh of his, pretending to be friendly with everyone but just sounding like a weasel, “He’s a complete social butterfly. Always so busy! Gotta admire a guy that dedicated to building his, uh, _connections_. If you catch my drift.”

Tony thinks he might hurl.

Thank god Strange was so tall...and had such nice, broad shoulders…

_‘Chill, Tony. We’re being chill. He’s still a skinny bastard,’_ he reminded himself.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” Strange replies coldly. Is Stephen _defending him?_ No. No way. Tony is just losing his mind. It happened pretty often when Hammer was around. It was like his idiocy was infectious or something.

Justin laughs that fake laugh of his again. “Well, maybe you don’t. Don’t worry, doc. He’ll make his way around to you eventually. Although maybe not, if I manage to get to him first.”

Tony can't see Hammer winking, but he’s pretty sure he is. God he hates that guy. He always makes Tony feel so objectified. Gross. Disgusting. Tony feels more and more like he really is going to hurl.

Stephen makes a humming noise - and it’s Stephen now because Tony owes him big time for this - and makes an offhand remark about seeing Tony by the dance floor, which is currently extremely crowded and therefore guaranteed to buy Tony at least a few minutes to escape.

There are a few moments of silence where Tony squeezes his eyes shut and prays he’ll continue to go unnoticed until-

“You can come out now.”

“Oh thank god!” Tony exclaims, popping up from his slight crouch and swinging around to face the doctor. “I thought I’d never get rid of him.”

“Yes, he seemed oddly persistent. A suitor, perhaps?” Stephen asks, sounding far too amused for having just been subjected to Hammer’s presence.

Tony shrieks quietly. There is not enough brain bleach in the world to scrub that idea from his mind. He’s going to have to invent something to induce highly specific amnesia.

“Not your type then?” Dr. Meanie asks innocently. And, well, Tony isn’t going to get a better opportunity than this.

“Not really. I like ‘em tall, dark, and handsome,” he jokes lowly, edging further into the doctor’s space.

“Is that so?” Stephen replies, voice deep and low and sending shivers of anticipation up his spine. And glory, hallelujah, those are some beautiful eyes gazing intently into his.

“Oh yeah. Definitely,” Tony says breathlessly, hands twitching into a light grip on the doctor’s lapels.

“Well,” Stephen leans down and trails the tip of his nose along Tony’s cheek, and Tony freezes as he feels breath on his ear, “you should be aware that your stalker is heading back this way.”

Tony blinks rapidly as the doctor draws away from him. Once the words finally register with him, he beats a hasty retreat towards the exit, Stephen’s laughter ringing in his ears.

 

~~~~~~

 

‘Power Couple’ might be too on-the-nose for this bride and groom. Although they certainly look lovely together. Very...statuesque.

He leaves a bottle of expensive whiskey on the table with the rest of the wedding gifts and considers making his escape when it looks like the groom’s grandmother might try to make a pass at him again. A hand at his waist both belays that thought and nearly makes him upset the whole table.

“Easy, doc. That feisty old lady is really getting under your skin, isn’t she?” Oh. Great. Stark again.

“Has she pinched your ass too? Or is it just me?” Stephen shoots back.

“As if anyone could resist this ass.”

Which, to be perfectly fair, is true. It really is a glorious ass. That he has _only_ admired once or twice.

“Mmm, yes, I’d definitely call you that,” Stephen mocks as he very nobly resists checking to see how it looks in this particular suit. There’s always later. When Stark is walking away. No need to stroke that ego.

“Wow, rude.” Tony sticks out his tongue.

“Childish.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it.”

“Oh, please.”

“Oh, I’m getting a ‘please’? Well maybe if you’re good...” Tony says with a wink.

“It’s cute that you think I’m the one that would have to be good,” Stephen shoots right back.

“You think I’m cute?” Snide comment. Snidecommentsnidecommentsnidecomment.

“I think you’re adorable.” GOD FUCKING DAMNIT STEPHEN.

Tony’s expression is a special kind of stunned.

“Uh, reall-?”

“I BET YOU I CAN LIFT THIS ENTIRE TABLE!”

They both start and turn just in time to watch the, very drunk, bride lift the table with the wedding cake high over her head.

“This isn’t going to go well,” Tony mutters just before the table tilts and the cake comes crashing down.

All over them.

Stephen looks at Tony, who looks back at him with cake in his hair and frosting dripping down his face - beautiful tux ruined surely - looking absolutely stunned, and can't contain himself. The pair bursts into laughter. “The groom-” Tony wheezes past his laughter, “the groom is in your _hair!”_ He starts laughing even harder until he tips into Stephen's side.

Stephen looks down at the bright joy on Tony’s face and his heart pounds.

It should worry him, but the groom is in his hair and he can only laugh.

 

~~~~~~

 

Tony sits in the back of the church and tries to swallow down his disappointment. It had been ages since he’d run into the doctor and he’d...well, he’d hoped. But Stephen isn’t here.

He doesn’t seem to be the only one disappointed either. The bride seems to have gotten cold feet.

He’s tempted to leave. But what if they’re just late? Maybe the bride had a spill. Maybe Stephen got held up in traffic.

Maybe neither of them are coming and he’s wasting his time here. Wasted his chance. Happy was going to be pissed when he found out Tony had snuck away when he’d promised no more weddings.

The lawnmower derby wedding had apparently been the final straw. Too bad Stephen hadn’t gone to that one either. Maybe Tony could’ve been his patient. Then he would’ve been able to crack jokes of them having been _intimately close_ and Stephen having been inside him before. Stephen would probably appreciate them. He seemed to like Tony’s dumb humor.

No such luck though. What wasted potential.

The doors slamming open right next to him startled Tony out of his seat. Heart pounding, he turns. Could it be…

The bride. Of course.

She marches down the aisle and stops for nothing. Her veil is off, her face is red, and her heels have clearly been discarded. Bare-footed, she marches up the aisle, eyes dead set on the groom, who is looking increasingly frightened.

She’s at the altar in moments, swinging her bouquet at her would-be husband, screaming obscenities.

Tony flees.

He runs into a table in the vestibule and topples around it before leaning against a wall for support as he tries to catch his breath. He only manages a few gulps of breath before the room he just fled erupts into shouts and sends his heart tipping into overdrive and _he has to get out_.

Tony pushes out the entrance doors and is immediately blinded by sunlight. Then he’s falling.

_Oh right_ , he thinks, remembering the stairs too late.

The ground knocks what little breath remained from him and his vision goes spotty. From the lack of breathing or his head hitting the pavement, he’s not sure. Then there are hands and he’d scream if he had the breath. They pull him up and drag him backwards until he feels stone at his back. His mind spins back to a cave long ago but the hands disappear like they never have before and when they come back, they’re gentle and warm. One held to his cheek as the other presses carefully against the back of his head.

_“-ny,”_ he hears as though through water. Except there’s no ice hitting his face. _“Tony, breathe.”_

Breathe. Not so easy. But he tries.

One in, hold, out. Two in, hold, out. He stutters through the count for what feels like hours but can’t really be more than a handful of minutes. He doesn’t open his eyes. Doesn’t want to think about this being the next thing on the front of the news. Tony Stark Breaks Down at Strangers’ Wedding -- more at 8. Ugh.

“Can you hear me now?” comes a familiar voice. Tony takes a moment longer than he really needs in order to savor the feeling of those wonderful hands touching him so kindly.

But everything ends sometime.

Tony nods and Stephen’s hands leave him briefly before one wraps around his wrist. Tony is grateful, even as he recognizes the hold is tracking his pulse.

“Tony, I’d really like to check you for a concussion when you’re ready to open your eyes. That was a pretty hard fall,” Stephen murmurs.

“I’m fine,” Tony insists, opening his eyes to beautiful, intense eyes and a displeased frown. “No really, I’m good.” One dark eyebrow raises skeptically. “I feel much better,” Tony persisted, looking around. He’d expected a crowd to witness his shame, but instead, they’re alone.

“Are you feeling disoriented at all?” Stephen asks him. The confusion must have shown on his face.

“I-I thought there would be more people…”

“I dragged you around the side of the church to the garden before anyone saw. Most people are still inside.”

“Oh. That’s good,” Tony says quietly. One disaster averted. Now he just had to get out of here with his heart mostly intact. No way was he going to be able to ask out his favorite doctor now.

They sat in silence for a long moment, Stephen watching Tony intently.

Stephen breaks the silence with a sigh and Tony watches him stand up with an aching heart. “Let me drive you home,” Stephen says lowly, holding out a hand. It’s not phrased like a request. Tony goes to reach out but hesitates. He wants to stay with Stephen but doesn’t want to torture himself. “Please,” Stephen adds.

“Okay,” Tony sighs softly and grasps Stephen’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up and steadied. Stephen wraps an arm around Tony’s waist and Tony shivers. He’s keenly aware of the warmth engulfing him. He hopes he’s not blushing.

But, oh, he is. He is _definitely_ blushing as Stephen escorts him through the parking lot to a sleek silver Lamborghini Huracan Coupe. And when Stephen opens the passenger door for him, Tony can tell it’s cared for and neatly kept. Doctor Stephen Strange doesn’t throw his wrappers on the floorboard, apparently.

Exhaustion hits him as Stephen starts driving and he closes his eyes. God, how much more embarrassing can he get? He leans back into his seat with a groan and resolves to never go to another wedding.

“Nausea?”

Persistent bastard. “Just embarrassed,” Tony murmurs.

“No one saw.”

“You saw.”  He wishes he could take the words back. But nope, instead, he lays his massive crush out for Stephen to see.

“I’ve seen you covered in wedding cake. And not in a flattering way. I hardly see how this is any more embarrassing than that.”

“That’s different.”

“Not really.”

“It is,” Tony insists shortly, hoping Stephen will realize this wasn’t something he really wanted to talk about.

“Tony, you had an anxiety attack and fell down the stairs. It’s a terrible thing to happen, yes, but it’s not ‘Mrs. Butterworth-stuck-up-your-ass’ terrible.”

“Why? Has that happened to you?” Tony asks with a grin. He tries to suppress the laughter building in his chest.

“A former patient of mine. Fact is: I’ve seen many, _many_ embarrassing things and this doesn’t rate at all. And it shouldn’t. All that matters to me is that you’re alright now.”

Tony glances over to see Stephen is red around the ears, but he has no idea if it’s because of his previous comment or so plainly admitting he cares. But of course he cares. The man’s a doctor. He’d probably say something similar to any patient.

“I’m alright.”

Stephen is quiet. Tony takes that as the matter settled.

“You don’t have to be,” Stephen says quietly.

Tony pretends not to hear him.

 

~~~~~~

 

Stephen holds the invitation to the Virginia Potts-Harold Hogan wedding delicately in his hands. It’s a beautiful cream with gold lettering and rose gold flowers embossed in the framing. He’s not sure why he was invited, considering he’s only met Happy in passing once and he’s never met the infamous Pepper Potts, but he’s certain it has something to do with Tony Stark.

Tony Stark, who he hasn’t seen since he’d dropped him off at his mansion eight months ago with the assurance that the man would call someone to stay with him in case he really did have a concussion. Tony Stark, who hadn’t shown up to another wedding since, but would certainly be here at the wedding of two of his closest friends. Tony Stark, who he should have offered to stay with that night, instead of driving off to an unfulfilling evening of kicking himself for not staying.

He’s seated near the back, because, truthfully, he’s neither family nor friend nor incredibly important socialite who must be kept happy. The venue is, of course, stunningly beautiful. As if Pepper Potts would accept anything less. The flowering trees are strung with dainty lights that give the place that fairytale feeling in the dappled sunlight coming through the heavy canopy overhead. The chairs are tasteful, yet comfortable and the stone paths are smooth and well-paved.

Happy looks nervous and excited in equal measure up by the minister, but the best man is nowhere in sight. He hasn’t seen Tony yet either.

It’s not long before the music starts up and everyone looks back. He tucks his invitation into his jacket pocket discretely and does the same. The bridesmaids enter in elegant green satin, each more lovely than the last, escorted by equally handsome men wearing matching green ties. Stephen’s only familiar with Hope van Dyne, who is involved in the medtech industry.

They’re followed by the maid of honor - an absolutely stunning redhead who would draw the eyes of nearly everyone there if they weren’t already looking at her. Then comes the ring bearer carrying an ornately engraved box and the flower girl trailing red and pink rose petals to mix with the white flowers already fallen from the trees around them.

And finally, Pepper Potts makes her appearance. She’s absolutely beautiful. Her dress as perfectly elegant as she always seems to be and Stephen has no idea how she manages to make such a complexly embroidered dress look so tasteful and elegant.

But, it’s truthfully Tony to her left that takes his breath away.

No man should be able to look that devastatingly handsome.

Tony’s hair is carefully styled up and his goatee is perfectly trimmed. His warm brown eyes glimmer with what Stephen suspects might be happy tears. He looks up at Pepper so lovingly that Stephen’s heart aches at the sight alone.

He wants. Fervently.

He wants Tony to look at him with that much love.

As they pass by, he resolves not to waste what is probably his last chance.

Happy looks at them with such tremendous love as the pair approach him. While Pepper takes her place before Happy, Tony pats the groom on the shoulder and takes his own place as the best man. He’s grinning brightly. Resplendently.

And Stephen memorizes what Tony looks like in this moment, wanting to always be able to remember what Tony looks like so radiantly happy.

No matter how the future turns out.

~~~~~~

The guests follow the bride and groom down a winding path to the reception area; a large hall of trellises dripping with flowering vines and small lights where a string quartet plays softly and sweetly in the background.

Stephen, near the back of the procession, steels himself for the greeting line and tries to plan out how to be charming without being a dick. Which, according to Christine, tends to happen often.

Soon he’s at the front of the line and shaking the hand of the beautiful redhead while Tony stares at him, wide-eyed and totally ignoring the man currently shaking his hand. The man moves on and Stephen closes in on Tony to hold his outstretched hand gently between both of his.

“Hello, Tony.”

“Stephen,” Tony greets, clearly surprised. Stephen gives him a smile and glances over at the looks of absolute mischief on the bride and groom. He gets the feeling his crush isn’t unrequited.

“It’s really good to see you again.”

“I-I, uh, yeah. Yeah, you too,” Tony stutters, staring down at where Stephen is holding his hand and blushing adorably.

Stephen memorizes that too. Tony blushing is ridiculously cute and he wants to make it happen again. Soon.

For now, there are impatient guests still behind him, so he continues on to congratulate the newlyweds.

As Stephen shakes Pepper’s hand, Happy leans in to clap him on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it, Doc.”

“You should know your chances are very high,” Pepper whispers with a wink. So he was right.

“Thank you both very much,” he murmurs, genuinely sincere. He casts a sly glance over at Tony, who is still a bit flustered and who keeps looking his way.

And if he does a small fist pump as he walks to his table, there’s no one who knows him around to notice.

Except someone does notice. The Air Force colonel staring him down from the table next to his has clearly noticed. Stephen doesn’t know the guy and he doesn’t see why he ever should, but he’s definitely intimidated.

After Stephen is seated, it doesn’t take long for dinner to be brought out and speeches to commence. Tony and the maid-of-honor, Natasha, are both magnetic and witty.

It’s when the dancing begins that Stephen starts to feel truly nervous. He doesn’t usually dance at weddings, but he knows there’s an order of precedence. He just needs to figure out his timing.

He’s watching the crowd for when non-familial guests start joining in when the Air Force colonel from before grabs his shoulder and discretely pulls him aside.

“Colonel James Rhodes, Tony’s best friend. You and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting until now, doctor,” he says, his tone deceptively friendly but his eyes intense. Overprotective best friend, apparently. Joy.

“Doctor Stephen Strange,” he replies, though he suspects introducing himself is unnecessary.

“I know.” Well, that confirms that. “Tony doesn’t shut up about you. Pepper has told him to just send you an email for months now. It even got to the point Happy was suggesting they ambush you at work.”

Stephen feels a bit flattered, but Colonel Rhodes doesn’t let him get a word in edgewise.

“So here’s the deal, doc. I don’t know you, but Happy seems to think you’re alright and Tony is going to do what Tony does regardless of what I say. But if you’re just going to use him, I strongly suggest you leave now and let him forget about you.”

“I have no intention of _using_ him, Colonel,” he says quietly, distaste on the back of his tongue.

“Well good. I-”

“Rhodey, platypus, honeybear, _please_ tell me you’re not threatening Stephen,” Tony interrupts cheerfully, sidling up between them and throwing his arms around their necks. Stephen has to lean down for him. It’s a hardship he’s willing to bear.

“I was definitely threatening him,” Rhodes answers. Stephen is still being stared down despite Tony’s presence.

Tony pouts. It’s adorable.

“Someone has to do it,” Rhodes says with a shrug. “And now my job here is done.” He pats Tony on the back, twists out of the stranglehold Tony is trying to maintain on him, and leaves them with a laugh.

Tony continues to pout after him and Stephen just can’t resist. He takes advantage of already being pulled down to Tony’s level and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

He takes great joy in watching Tony immediately start blushing. Even if in his flustered state, Tony ends up dragging Stephen closer by the neck as he tries to stutter out some response.

“Do-Would you-I mean,” Tony mumbles into Stephen’s shoulder. Stephen grins. After all that banter, a simple kiss on the cheek was what undid Tony Stark? How interesting.

“Would you like to dance?” he whispers into Tony’s ear. “Or do you need a glass of water first?”

Tony whacks his chest and pulls away to rub at his bright red cheeks. Stephen chuckles when he hears Tony call him a jerk under his breath, but allows Tony to pull him onto the dance floor easily. It’s, fortunately, something slow that they can just sway along with and talk.

Except now that he’s holding Tony in his arms, Stephen can’t find the words he wanted to say and it seems like butterflies are trying to escape from his chest when Tony tucks his nose into his neck.

So they sway silently through one song and then another until Stephen spots Pepper Potts making threatening gestures at the musicians while also pointing back at them. Laughter finally lets loose, releasing those butterflies. Tony makes an inquiring noise, but seems comfortable where he is and Stephen realizes he really isn’t going to get a better opportunity than this.

“We should go on a date sometime,” Tony mumbles, beating him to the question.

“I’d like that very much,” Stephen replies with a soft smile.

Pepper gets the musicians to keep playing slowly for three more songs before Happy distracts her long enough to have it changed to something more fast-paced. As the music changes, Stephen drags Tony away to get his phone number and, hopefully, kiss him again.


End file.
